The Hazards of Being a Stage Manager
by Oxymoronic Alliteration
Summary: Specs was happy to be stage manager for the spring musical. That is until he had to deal with off-key singers, a tyrannical school principal, and other such problems...
1. The Perfect Show

Disclaimer: I do not own _Newsies_. However, if Disney is looking to sell, I am looking to buy! Also, I do not own _Into the Woods_. This masterpiece is the property of Stephen Sondheim.

* * *

I looked down at the script I held in my hands. This would be the last show I would be stage manager for at Hannan. Although it's a thankless job, it doesn't change the fact that I've enjoyed doing it for the past two years. That's why I wanted this show to be the best. Nothing could go wrong. It had to be perfect.

Perfect play. Perfect cast. Perfect performance.

Ok, so I know I was asking a bit too much there. After all, this is a high school production. Not just any high school production either.

It was _our _high school production

My high school isn't well-known for a wonderful drama department. Other than lack of male participation on stage, we also have to deal with a lack of funding. Which is why I, along with the other executive board members, had worked so hard to get it to a better level.

Hopefully, that was now about to pay off. As stage manager, I was going to do everything in my power to make this show a success.

Technically, I guess you could just call me the director. I do most of the work anyway. See, we could never really get a teacher to stay more than one year. Finally, our principal decided this year to simply put the chorus teacher, Ms. Larkson (who insists we call her Medda) in charge as our moderator. She in turn put me in charge of everything. She would just be there to teach songs and assure the faculty that an adult would be present at all times.

I, on the other hand, would be the one putting up with all of the bullshit. Before the end of the show, most of the cast members would probably be cursing at me behind my back, seeing me as nothing more than a sadistic asshole who enjoys tormenting them.

I could hardly wait.

With the weight of the world (or so it seemed) resting on my shoulders, I began the preparations for our final show of the year. I had people sign up for auditions. I asked students to volunteer to be on crews. I recruited band members to play music. I hung a flyer on every single locker:

**Hannan Spring Musical**:

_Into the Woods_: a Stephen Sondheim musical

Open auditions will be held March 1st and 2nd . Come prepared to sing and read lines.

See Executive Board members to sign-up to audition.

Throughout all of this, though, I couldn't shake a feeling in the pit of my stomach. Maybe you could call it intuition, but something told me this wasn't going to be a walk in the park.

* * *

**Hey! This story had been deleted because of "interaction." Therefore, I removed the offensive areas and decided to re-post! Please review!**


	2. Cast List!

Disclaimer: Nope, _Newsies_ in no way belongs to me. It belongs to Disney. All OC's belong to their creators, and_ Into the Woods_ belongs to Stephen Sondheim. I do, however, own Zodiac, Quills, Robbie, and Benny.

* * *

I felt the surge of eager, hopeful thespians pushing me further against the bulletin board in an attempt to get a better look at the single sheet of paper I held in my hands. I, of course, took my own sweet time scanning the sheet and carefully tacking it up:

_Into the Woods _Cast List:

Narrator: David Jacobs

Cinderella: Sapphy Neiman

Jack: Brent Keller

Baker: Benny Fouche

Baker's Wife: Ashleigh Bennet

Cinderella's Stepmother: Kathleen York

Florinda: Aurora O'Brien

Lucinda: Jeska Jones

Jack's Mother: Elizabeth Jennings

Little Red Ridinghood: Colleen Dupont

Witch: Alissa Wood

Cinderella's Father: Ian Sauro

Cinderella's Mother: Saiorse Bernadette Callan

Mysterious Man: Randy Proveter

Wolf/Cinderella's Prince: Xavier Durnham

Rapunzel: Sarah Jacobs

Rapunzel's Prince: Jack Kelly

Granny: Megan Piskac

Steward: Vic Culliman

Giant: Maura O'Leary

Snow White: Kyriel F.

Sleeping Beauty: Emilia Harker

Barely had I done so when I was pushed forcefully back through the sea of people. I didn't resist. If there's one thing I've learned, it's never come between a drama geek and the cast list.

What followed was a melee filled with groans of disappointment, sighs of relief, and squeals of joy. Oh, and you can't forget the glares of death thrown at me by angry students. As though the entire casting is only my choice alone.

Ah . . . to be a bearer of bad news.

"I assume some people don't agree with the casting?" a bemused voice inquired. I turned to see a pair of almond-shaped brown eyes staring back at me accompanied by a slight smirk. Trish Williams, better known as Ershey, our club's Company Manager, and basically my second-in-command.

I managed a small smile. "They seem to enjoy killing the messenger," I replied. "Not that is really matters," I continued. "I'm pretty used to it by now."

"Oh. My. God!" A piercing scream penetrated through the air. "I got a part! I got a part!" The voice continued to scream as it ran past us.

Ershey winced slightly "Remind me again why we had to give Sarah a part."

"Well, otherwise, Daddy Principal wouldn't let us do a show at all. Don't worry, though. I gave her a big enough part that she'll be satisfied, but a small enough part that she won't be too much trouble."

"But doesn't Rapunzel have a song in the show?"

"It's kind of optional. I don't think they had it in the Original Broadway Cast production. In fact, the only production I know that kept it in was the Original London Cast."

"You don't think she'll try to push for it to be in the show?"

"I'll deal with that when and if it happens. Right now, I have to make sure we get to do the show. Maybe it's a good thing." I said as persuasively as possible. "At least now the school will have to pay some attention to the drama club. Possibly give us some well-needed funds."

Ok, that's _really _wishful thinking. Ha! School giving us funds and actually giving a shit about us. I may as well wish for world peace while I'm at it.

"Just keep her out of my way, alright?" Ershey pleaded. "If she gets on my nerves, I cannot be held accountable for my actions."

In case you couldn't tell, Sarah Jacobs isn't the most beloved person. Not around the drama club at least. She seems to be under the impression that she is the best at everything. Singing, dancing, acting, writing, drawing, track, volleyball, cheerleading, and so on. No matter what the sport or club is, she has to be the best at it. And it doesn't help that her father is principal of the school. It's strange considering how different her brother is.

And by different, I do mean much, _much _different.

"Don't worry. You won't even know she's there. Oh, don't forget about E-Board meeting second-half of lunch in room 142!" I reminded her as she began to weave through the crowd of students, replying only with a thumbs-up.

Pushing my way against the current of students, I searched among them to find someone.

"Specs!"

I scanned the hallway before settling on the very person I was looking for. I made my way toward her.

"Ireland! You're just the person I was looking for." I turned to the blonde who seemed permanently attached to her arm. "Hey, Spot." He only gave a small nod in reply.

"So, what did you need to see me about?"

"Well, I know you had asked to be choreographer for the show." She nodded eagerly. "I have to be honest. This show isn't very dance intense. However, I would love for you to do some choreography for the dance numbers and just help with blocking in general. Maybe like assistant director or something."

"Sure, that's be great! Spot already said he's going to help with sets and everything, aren't you Spot?" Again, he just nodded.

"Well, thanks. We need all the help we can get." Which was true. In addition to a forest background, two house backgrounds and bakery background, there was also Cinderella's Mother's grave, the tower, and Lord only knows what else.

I tried to not think about that though. At least not for the time being. There were too many other things to worry about.

* * *

Lunchtime meetings. The only time for the Executive Board to discuss further plans. Next we'd all be running in different directions trying to make the show a success.

Ershey sat with Ink, our Scenic Designer, discussing their theories on the origin of the mystery meat of today's lunch. Minx, our Business Manager, who was sitting close to the wall in an attempt to stay out of sight of any teacher who may pass by, stealthily ate a large bag of Doritos. Racetrack, the Master Electrician, was trying to get his physics homework for next period done as quickly as humanly possible. I sat staring into space while checking my mental To-Do List.

_So, the cast list is up and I have an assistant. Those are both things to scratch off of my To-Do List. So what's left? _

Pondering this, a pair of hands covered my eyes. "Hey Dutchy," I responded nonchalantly to the display of affection.

"C'mon," he whined, "can't you at least pretend to be stumped?"

Ah, Dutchy. My beloved. Also the drama club's Technical Director.

Translation: I get to watch him do manual labor in cut-off tees and tight jeans. Yeah . . . life _is_ good.

"You're no fun," he muttered softly, apparently still wounded by my hesitation to take part in his guessing game. "Ooo! Doritos!" Thank God for his short attention span.

"Nuh-uh!" Minx cried, trying to hold the bag out of his reach. "I didn't get a chance to eat lunch! I need food."

As Dutchy began coaxing a few cheesy treasures out of Minx, I stood up and began bringing the meeting to order.

"As you should know, the cast list for _Into the Woods _went up today. I also have the list of crew members who have volunteered in each department."

I removed the aforementioned list from my very organized drama folder. Amazingly, I'm pretty together when it comes to that kind of stuff. You know, the really important stuff. The same can't be said for my math homework. Bah! Math! Who needs it?

"Minx, you have Buttons, Fluxy, Ace, Hornet, and Itey. Dutchy, you have Leaf, Shorty, Zona, Mush, and Spot. Race has Fantasy and Crutchy. Ink has Rei, Nova, and Spitfire. And I have Jinx, Christmas, Bucks, and Milkshake."

"How are we on musicians?"

"Lute is playing flute, Snitch is on drums, Hyena is on violin, Mac is playing cello, Cricket is on clarinet, and I got Robbie to play piano."

"Robbie? For piano? You really think that's a good idea?" Race asked raising a single eyebrow.

How do people do that anyway? I've always been jealous of people who could. I've tried and tried, but one just won't go up without the other.

"What's wrong with Robbie?" I asked innocently.

Ok, that is a really stupid question. What _isn't_ wrong with him? I mean, the guy just doesn't seem all there sometimes. Rather, all the time. Plus, he just doesn't seem to retain the directions you give him very well.

"Look. We need a pianist. He is a pianist. See? It works perfectly!"

He shook his head. "Hey it's your call. This is your show. Your baby."

"I also have assignments for everyone," I continued, reaching into my folder. I handed a list to Ershey, Dutchy, and Ink. "Ershey, those are the proposals I need typed up for Wednesday. That's when Administrative Council meets and we need to present the proposals to them as soon as possible. Dutchy, that's a list of all props we need to acquire and sets we need built. Ink, that is a description of each character's costume. Most of the cast will be responsible for their own costume, but I'd like you to look through our costume room and see if there are any we can use." All three nodded in agreement to their set assignment.

"Minx, I need you to begin designs for advertisements. I'd like to see a couple of idea and some rough drafts in about two weeks. I also need to know how much we have in the way of funds. And Race, once rehearsals start, I'll get you a list of light settings." I paused to regain some oxygen. "Are there any questions? If not, I think we're finished."

_Ok. Now the E-Board has their assignments. Yet another thing to scratch off the To-Do List. So what is left?_

As the others filtered out, Dutchy lingered behind momentarily. "Are you ok? You look exhausted."

"I'm fine. I just have so much to do."

"You weren't at lunch."

"I didn't have time. Don't worry. I'll be fine. Journalism is next. I'll get something and eat it up there, ok?" I added after catching a worrisome look in his eyes.

"Ok," he sighed. "Just don't work yourself to death. It's only a high school production." With that, and a small peck on the cheek, he left.

Now, where had I been before that sudden, albeit badly needed, interruption? Oh, right! My current To-Do List. Let's see:

Well, I still had to pass out scripts, make sure the musicians learned the songs, conduct two months worth of rehearsals, make sure everyone learned their songs, see to it everyone obtained some type of a costume, see to it everyone learned their lines, see to it we have a proper set, advertise the show as much as humanly possible, put on the greatest musical in the history of Archbishop Hannan High School and still retain my sanity.

What had I gotten myself into?

* * *

Woo! First real chapter is out! Hooray! So what did you think? I know you must have some sort of an opinion. What better way to get it out than in a review? 


	3. First Rehearsal

Disclaimer: You know the drill. _Newsies_ belongs toDisney; _Into the_ _Woods_ belongs to Stephen Sondheim; OC'stheir creators; Zodiac, Quills, Robbie, and Benny belong me!

A/N: I forgot to mention something in the last chapter. This story is dedicated to Ashley Generose, my stage manager of two years. Thank you for putting up with all the shit you were forced to put up with! And just remember: What goes around, comes around! Stage manager is GOD!

* * *

I watched as the minute hand finally reached the six. With the hour hand already resting on the three, this obviously meant it was 3:30. Meaning it was time for the first rehearsal to begin.

So why were we missing _seven_ cast members?

Sighing, I waited patiently for the stragglers to arrive before finally grabbing the cast list from Ershey. "Does anyone know where Sarah, Benny, Kyriel, Shooter, and Jack are?" My question was met only with blank stares. I glanced back at the clock.

3:35.

"I think Jack said he had to make-up a test after school," a voice rang out from the back of the classroom. Yes, I said classroom. Not auditorium.

I removed my glasses and massaged my temples. I was pretty sure a headache was getting ready to hit. "Do you know how long it's going to take?"

Pie Eater, our Steward in the show, as well as the source of the current information, shrugged. "Not really. It's the physics test."

Oh, the physics test. The one that was about ten pages long. Yeah, we probably wouldn't be seeing Rapunzel's Prince for a while. Still, it was good to know he at least had an excuse, even though he couldn't have told me this. That still didn't explain our other no-shows. However, before I began to get really angry, four people hurried into the room.

Well, really three hurried in. One just walked in leisurely at his own pace.

"It is now," I began, glancing at the clock, "3:38. That's eight minutes of my time, as well as your fellow cast members' time, you have wasted by being late. Because this is the first rehearsal, I'm not going to penalize any of you. Next time, and this goes for everyone in the show, I will record how late you were and you will owe me that time back. The best way to assure you will be here on time is by being here early."

"Well, you could just start without us," a voice interrupted. "I mean, we'll be here eventually."

Benny Fouche. Athlete extraordinaire. Never one to have a least bit of interest in the performing arts. That is, until now. And how could we refuse? We needed as many boys as we could get. Plus, his father just bought the school twelve new computers. So, like Sarah, we had no choice. I had to give him the role of the Baker.

Not that he is a bad actor or singer, mind you. He's not great, but he could be worse. However, he seems to always have an attitude problem and doesn't enjoy being told what to do. I assume being told what to do by a "fag" hurts his pride even more.

How did I know he wasn't going to make this easy?

"Yes, we _can_ start without you. However, I would prefer we didn't. I have a lot of notes to give out and I don't like to repeat myself if I can help it. Now, I have to talk to you all about a few things. First, I–"

"Hey! Sparrow, Jack and Alaska aren't here! You're starting without _them_."

I gripped the side of the desk tightly. I knew he was trying my patience. "_They _have an excuse. They informed me before that they would be late for the rehearsal. Which brings me to what I was saying," I continued, with a glare in the direction of a certain individual. "I need everyone's final conflict sheets by Thursday. Just put down any other activities you may be involved with, what days they are on, and the time they begin and time they end. Give it to either Ershey or me. That way, we can make a rehearsal schedule that is as flexible as possible.

"Now, as you all should know, for the next two months we will be holding rehearsals. Today, I will be handing out scripts and scores. I would like to read through as much as we possibly can today and tomorrow. By Thursday, I would like to start blocking and–"

"What's blocking mean?"

"It means actually staging the show. Telling you what to do at certain points in the show. And Benny, could you _please_ raise your hand next time?" I took a breath to calm myself. It didn't help, but then again it rarely does. "Also, I want to start teaching songs. Robbie, who is going to play piano for the show, will be coming in sometime this week to start. Soon, more of the musicians for the show will also be attending rehearsals. Some of you may be off learning a song while others are on stage doing blocking. Others will be running lines. Some of you will not have to come to every rehearsal, especially not Kyriel, Nova, and Fantasy. Your characters appear only in the second act. So, today we're going to read through the script. If you come across a song, just try to read the lyrics for now. Any questions?"

"Aren't we supposed to have a teacher with us? Where is Ms. Larkson? Are we going to get in trouble if they find us in here without a teacher?" asked a somewhat nervous Fantasy, who would be the voice of the Giant in addition to working the sound effects for the show.

"Technically, yes. We are supposed to have a teacher in the classroom with us. However, Medda isn't going to be able to make it at all this week. I couldn't postpone rehearsals for that long. Besides, most of the faculty members who actually care about that kind of stuff are either gone or too busy to come around and check," I explained to calm her nerves. "Medda told me if anything does happen, she'll take full responsibility." Not to mention the fact that we have the principal's son and daughter in the show, which does provide a certain type of immunity. "Are there any other questions?"

A hand rose "Why aren't we in the auditorium? I mean, isn't that why it was built in the first place? For the drama club to perform its productions?" asked Soaker, our show's Lucinda.

I smiled grimly. "Yes, that is _precisely_ why it was built," I replied. I could remember attending Hannan as a freshman, upset to find that the drama productions were performed in the cafeteria. On a stage which the drama club had to build and take down for each show. With three shows a year, that's a lot of work. Which is why I was relieved that by the end of my junior year, the Fine Arts building (which was supposed to have been built about five years prior) was finally up and ready. Unfortunately, I couldn't celebrate so quickly. "The school has decided we may not use it for rehearsals, or even performances, unless we have a proposal and present it before Administrative Council. We have to agree to abide by all of their rules. See, they're afraid we might mess up their building by rehearsing there."

"So do they have the basketball team submit a proposal before using the gym to practice and for games?" asked Zodiac, who played Little Red Riding Hood sarcastically. "I mean, after all, they might mess it up."

A few murmurs of laughter followed the comment. Not that I could blame her for being angry. She had waited just as long as I had for the Goddamn building to be built. To now be told we couldn't use it was basically a slap in the face.

"Hey, he has good reason to think it might happen," Sarah cried out. Crap. I momentarily forgot her father was the principal. "I mean, the school spent good money on that building. They don't want it ruined!"

"They spent a lot of money on the gym also," Ershey jumped in, "and they do more in there than we do in the auditorium. They spent a lot to build the whole fucking school. They don't expect us to create a proposal before walking the halls, do they? Besides, most of the money that went into building came from donations. Donations from _our _parents. I'm sure they donated that money so we would be able to rehearse and perform in a real auditorium."

"So, how about we start?" I stepped in before the inevitable fight broke out. And Sarah could inevitably go crying to daddy. And we could inevitably be forced to do our show in the janitor's closet.

All words spoken were set aside, but not forgotten. There was no mistaking the looks Sarah and Ershey were giving each other. However, as long as it remained at that, I was pretty sure we would be fine.

And so our first rehearsal and finally begun. Amazingly, it was going pretty smoothly. Of course, the entire first section is one long musical number with dialogue inserted in between. And the musical number was filled with characters overlapping each other in song. Still, most of the cast seemed to catch on quickly.

Honestly, I think the first problem came during "Hello, Little Girl." Skittery, who was playing duel roles as both the Wolf and Cinderella's Prince, was just starting the song, when I saw the hand go up.

I wanted to ignore it. Pretend I hadn't seen it. But, I knew if I didn't answer the question, he would just blurt it out eventually. "What is it, Benny?"

"Well, I was just looking through the script."

"And . . . ?"

"Well, there's a lot of singing in the show."

I stared blankly at him. "Ok, I follow you so far."

"Well, I was just thinking. I mean, that's kind of stupid. Why do they have to sing every three minutes?"

I wanted to bang my head against the desk. Better yet: bang _his_ head against the desk.

"Hey genius! It's called a _music_al. The word music is actually part of its name," Sapphy, our Cinderella, muttered. "Dumbass."

"Hey shut up!" he hissed at her. Turning back to me, he continued. "I mean, who can relate to this? Who just randomly breaks into song while just walking through town?"

In response to this rhetorical question, about 17 hands went up, my own included.

Rolling his eyes, Benny further clarified. "What _normal_ person does that?" The hands all slowly lowered. "See? No one is going to want to come see a bunch of people sing about every little thing happening in their lives."

"Well, apparently some people did want to see it. It ran for 764 performances," Granny, who, ironically enough, was _playing _Granny, interjected.

"Also, it won three Tony Awards," added Mayfly, our Baker's Wife. "They don't hand those babies out to just _anyone_."

"Don't forget about the five Drama Desk Awards," Snoddy, who played Cinderella's Father, commented.

"And the New York Drama Critics Circle Award for Best Musical," Shooter, our Florinda, reminded.

"Ok! I get the point!" Benny shouted. "But no one really cares about all those awards. I mean, did it ever win a Grammy?"

"Actually," David, who was our Narrator said, "it did. It won for Best Original Cast Show Album."

I looked at Benny smugly, expecting to see defeat. He doesn't give up easily, though.

"Look, I'm just saying that I think the students in this school would be more likely to come see the show if it were a bit more modern."

"And what exactly did you have in mind?" I asked. Or did I even want to know?

"Well, how about if we rapped it?"

"What?" I know I had to have heard wrong.

"Rap. I mean guys freestyle all the time. It's not uncommon. What's the big deal?" he asked seeing the dumbfounded stares of almost every person in the room.

Swifty, who played The Mysterious Man was the first to speak. "You want us to take the brilliant work of Stephen Sondheim and 'Snoop Dogg' it?"

"What's wrong with rap?"

"What's wrong with rap?" asked Sparrow, our Jack's Mother, who was just coming in. Jack and Alaska, who was the Witch followed closely behind. "You mean _other_ than being the lowest form of music known to the human race? Why are we on this subject anyway?"

Nova, who had been cast as Sleeping Beauty, answered, "Benny thinks we should do a rap version of _Into the Woods_."

Alaska's jaw practically dropped to the ground. "What on earth would give you the notion that _that_ is a good idea?"

"Jeez! It was just a suggestion! No need to attack me!"

"Well, why don't you just keep such 'brilliant' suggestions to yourself for the time being?" our Snow White, Kyriel, offered.

Glancing at the clock, I could see it was already a little past 4:30. We needed to do as much as humanly possible tonight. Clearing my throat, I vied for everyone's attention. "Could we please continue?"

The tension was still in the air, but everyone cooperated. Finding the place where we had left off, we continued. I prayed we would have no more outbursts.

One of these days, I'm going to become an atheist.

"We skipped a song," Sarah said. "It says the Witch and Rapunzel are supposed to sing a song called "Our Little World." We skipped it."

"Sarah, the song is optional. We are choosing not to do it."

"That's not fair, though. Suppose Alaska or me wants to have it in the show?"

"I really don't care," Alaska put in from her place leaning sleepily against Skittery.

"Well _I_ do!" Sarah pouted.

"Look," Kathleen, who was Cinderella's Stepmother, interrupted, "Specs already said it's out. He's the final word on everything."

"Shut your mouth, Slut!" Sarah retorted. Kathleen was commonly called such names. After all, her history with the guys was certainly no secret. She didn't seem to be shamed by the nicknames given to her. In fact, I'd be lying if I said I didn't sense the tiniest bit of pride in it. Of course, it's she takes pride in a lot of her unique characteristics. "He is not the final word on _everything_." Sarah continued.

I had to think up a lie. Quick. Luckily, bullshitting is one of my talents. "Sarah, they didn't even have it in the original production on Broadway for a couple of reasons. First, the play is already very long. If we add this song, we may extend our intended time limit. Also, the music is the hardest piece in the whole show. Even experts have trouble playing it." Considering her knowledge of music, or lack thereof, I was fairly sure she had no idea that I had just pulled that excuse out of my ass.

"Oh," was her only reply. That single "oh" was unsettling, however. I was positive I could practically see the wheels turning inside her head.

"Now, can we _please_ try to get through more without any stops?" I pleaded.

* * *

It was a little after six o'clock when we had finally finished. Rehearsal had been scheduled to end at six-thirty, but I figured it couldn't hurt to let them out a little early this one time. Besides, I feared what may happen if I had to keep them all in this small room for more time than necessary.

"Before you go, I do need to talk to you about costumes. I want each of you to see me when you can. I have a sheet for everyone which lists what your costume should consist of. Ink will be trying to scrounge up some things, but most of it will be up to you to get. I suggest you try looking in Goodwill or Volunteers of America."

"That's gross! You want us to wear clothes that have already been worn? You don't know what people could have done in that," a shocked and disgusted Sarah stated.

"You know, when you buy something from the mall, there have been people who tried that same outfit on before you," interjected Irish, who played Cinderella's Mother. "You never know. Someone could buy something, wear it, and then return it the next day. The difference it, when you bring something to Goodwill, they wash it before putting it on the racks. I doubt stores in the mall are that thoughtful."

"Look, Sarah," I interrupted, in an effort to prevent yet another argument, "I was just making a suggestion. If you want to go out and buy something expensive so that you can wear it in four performances, that's your business. Like Irish said, though. There is no shame in buying things from Goodwill." I thought about some of the cool things I had gotten from Goodwill. Things you couldn't find anywhere else.

Everyone's nerves were shot. I could tell. I needed to hurry up before someone did something drastic. That someone most likely meaning me. "Ink will also try to have make-up schemes and hair styles for everyone. Most of the guys won't need to wear a lot of make-up. Oh, and Blink! You're going to need to remove the patch. I just don't think it fits the character of Jack."

I heard whispering all around from that last comment. A few of the younger cast members turned and looked to see Blink's reaction. See, most people seem to be under the impression that Blink's eye patch was a permanent article of clothing for him. I knew some rumors had even begun to circulate about his reasons for wearing it. Most of them ridiculous. Some humorous. All completely false.

How do I know? Because I grew up next door to him. When he was in eighth-grade, a blood vessel in his left eye popped. I don't know all the details, nor do I really want to. While recovering, he wore a patch. This seemed to attract a good percentage of the female population at his school. Something about a "wounded" man seems to be attractive to girls. I guess it's their instinct to want to take care of someone. Whatever the reason, it came as a sudden surprise to Blink. After his initial shock, he decided to wear a patch more often. That escalated to wearing it basically all of the time. How he convinced his parents and the school to let him do this is beyond me. He's the kind of kid who could get away with murder. Apparently, though, his idea seemed to work wonderfully. He's been with Mayfly since the end of his freshmen year.

Blink just smirked and removed the aforementioned article of clothing. I'm pretty sure I heard a few gasps. "Is this better?" he asked cheekily.

I had to smile. "Yes, much better."

* * *

6:20

So with ten minutes left to go, I set the cast free. I reminded them that we had rehearsal again the following day, same time, same place. Though, I think the reminder fell upon deaf ears.

"Specs, what time do I need to be here tomorrow morning to present the proposals with you?" asked Ershey, gathering her things to leave as well.

"I don't think they are actually meeting until about 7:30, so just anytime before then."

She nodded. "Specs?"

"Yeah?"

"Get some sleep."

As I walked out of the school building, I heard a car honking behind me. I turned to see a car pull up beside me. The window rolled down to reveal Dutchy.

"Dutchy, what are you doing here?"

"Giving you a ride home. Your car is still in the shop."

"I can call my mom for a ride."

"Specs, I'm already here."

"Yeah, but if you give me a ride home, you'd be going out fo your way. You live far in the other direction, remember?"

"Specs, just get in the damn car!"

I love when he's forceful like that.

I slipped in and leaned back, resting as he peeled out of the parking lot.

"Rough rehearsal?" he asked.

"Hm."

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Hm."

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Hm."

He sighed. "I hope you're not overdoing it."

"I'm not. I'm fine."

The rest of the ride was in silence. Which was probably all for the better. It allowed me to have a good fifteen minute rest. The sad thing is, I think it was the best sleep I'd had all week.

As we pulled up to my house, I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks for the ride."

"Hey, you should probably go to bed early tonight. You look like you could use it."

Bed? Ha! That was the last thing on my mind. Well, maybe not the _last_, but it was pretty far down on the list. Somewhere between eating and writing the English essay that was due in two days.

I didn't want to worry Dutchy anymore than he already was. So I smiled and nodded like a good little boyfriend.

I really wasn't that stressed out, honestly. I had crossed yet another thing off of my To-Do List, I was about to cross off a couple more, and I still hadn't had a mental breakdown yet.

The keyword there is _yet_.

* * *

Yay! Another chapter is complete. I'm on a roll with this thing! Just hope I don't jinx it. Because you have read this chapter I will now recite a poem written especially for you:

Roses are red

Violets are blue

You rock my world

And reviews kick ass too!

So what do you think of my loverly poem? Yeah I know, don't quit my day job. Not that I actually have a day job...

NOTE: As Specs said in this chapter, I need all characters who are part of the cast, as well as any of the musicians, to turn in a list of other activities your character may be involved in. This includes clubs or sports within school, activities outside of school (dancing, voice lessons, etc) and if your character has a job. If you'd like to include days and times for all of the activities, that'd be great. If not, that's ok too.

And that about wraps that up! Ciao!


	4. Specs Vs Principal Jacobs

Disclaimer: No, I do not own _Newsies_ in any way shape and/or form. It belongs to Disney . . . for now. _Into the Woods_ belongs to Stephen Sondheim. All original characters belong to their owners. Except Zodiac, Quills, Benny, and Robbie. They belong to me! Woo!

* * *

It was 7:30 in the morning. 

At 7:30 in the morning, I was usually lying comfortably in bed, under the warmth of a blanket, clutching onto a few more moments of sleep while knowing full well that I needed to be at school in twenty minutes.

The _last_ place I wanted to be was school. Especially not when it meant facing the asshole of a principal who had so much power over our lives. I just hoped it would be worth it.

"And so, we hope the Administrative Council will allow us the use of the building for our rehearsals and performances," I finished. My fingers were crossed behind my back.

There was an awkward pause during which I could feel the perspiration squeezing out of my pores. I was almost positive they weren't going to turn us down. That would be cruel and inhumane. Of course, this _was_ our Administrative Council. Either way, I prayed to every god I had ever heard of to grant me this one wish.

The voice of the principal broke me from my trance. "Well, Mr. Hauser," he began, "I must say you seem very organized about this. I would love to be able to see this show performed in our new Fine Arts Building. However, there are a few things which must be taken care of first." He looked me squarely in the eye. "None of the cast or crew members will eat or drink while in the building, correct?"

"No sir. No one will have food or drink in the building."

"You will not break anything?"

Why on earth would we want to break anything? We have to perform in that place! We _want_ it to stay nice. "No sir."

"Nothing destructive will occur in the building?"

"Nothing at all."

"You will keep the stage, lights, and backstage area in order?"

Incredible! We had to answer to The Spanish Inquisition to use the auditorium while the jocks, who are the ones who usually have run ins with the law, get their practice space, no questions asked. I even saw a few members of the Administrative Council rolling their eyes. Still, I had no choice but to comply. "Yes, we will keep the building in order. We will leave it the way we found it."

He turned to the rest of the Council members for any objections they may have, before facing me. "Alright Mr. Hauser. You may use the building for your purposes."

My heart leapt. Somewhere in the world a celebration was being held over this one fact: We got the building!

"However..."

Dammit! I _hate_ that word!

"There is another matter to discuss. Now I understand there is a song which you have decided to cut from the show. 'Our Little World' I believe it's called?"

My throat went momentarily dry. "Uh-yes sir that's correct. The song is...uh...very hard and...well I-I just thought it would be easier..." It was a lost cause though. Sarah was much easier to fool than her father was.

"Well if you wish to use _our_ auditorium for your performance, I would hope I could see my little girl sing her song. I suggest you rethink your original decision."

It was a less than subtle message: Put the song in or I'll crush any dreams you may have of putting on a great show. I glanced at Ershey who gave me a look which clearly read 'I told you so.' "Ok Mr. Jacobs. I'll put the song back in."

"Wonderful!" he replied with a smug grin. "I believe this meeting is over."

"Hey Ersh, what class do you have first period?" I inquired as I attempted to make my way through the mass of students which had assembled in the hallway.

"P.E.," she grunted pushing around a couple of people who obviously didn't quite grasp the concept of walking. You see, one foot has to go in front of the other. This, consequently, causes you to move. Amazing the things you can learn. "Why do you ask?"

"Let's go to the art room. No one should be in there right now. I need to let off some steam and I don't want to go alone."

"What about class?"

"I have Campus Ministry." I shrugged. "I can get in as late as I wish. Besides, we'll only be missing announcements. And _Channel One_," I added slyly.

No one likes watching _Channel One_. You know _Channel One_. The news program put on by a bunch of young adults who couldn't make it into the _real_ news, and instead had to report on a bunch of stories no one really cares about in the first place. I mean, did they seriously think the students of America cared enough about Andrew Yanni's childhood depression to have a three-part special on it?

"Ok," she agreed. "But I need to be back for second period. I don't think I could afford to miss a chemistry claaaaaassss!" She trailed off in a half scream. Two muscular arms had managed to encircle themselves around her waist. "Mush!" she whined as she wriggled free. "That tickles!"

"Why do you think I do it? I love watching you squirm," he retorted mischievously, his hands already making its way back to where it had been.

She slapped them away. "No! Bad."

As we continued down the hall, Mush now included, I decided to ask his opinion on our current situation. "Mush, what do you think about blackmail within the school? For example, suppose we were forced by a higher power to do something in order to achieve a privilege which is rightfully ours to begin with." One look at his face and I could see he didn't have a clue as to what I was talking about.

"Jacobs wants us to give Sarah a song in the show in exchange for being allowed to use the auditorium for the show," Ershey clarified.

He shrugged. "So what's wrong with giving her a song?"

"Have you _heard_ her sing?"

"Even if she were a good singer," I explained, "it's just the principle of the thing. Why should Sarah get this special treatment just because her father is the principal? And what right does Mr. Jacobs have to dictate how we can and cannot put on our show? He didn't give a rat's ass about drama until it involved his 'little girl'."

"Do you really think he wouldn't let you use the auditorium? I mean, where else could you perform?"

"Mush, that's the entire idea," Ershey grumbled. "If we can't use the auditorium, we can't do the show. No auditorium. No show. Get it?" She shook her head in frustration. "I swear! If you weren't cute, sweet, funny, kind, respectful, romantic, and gorgeous in everything you wear, you'd be completely useless to me!"

"And I love you too, Ersh." The lovers reluctantly parted. But not before a beautiful good-bye kiss in the middle of the nearly vacant hallway.

"Do you two ever take a breather?" I mused after the two lovebirds finally went their separate ways.

"Oh, like you and Dutchy are any better about it."

"Yeah, but at least we don't do it at school. At least not when anyone can see us." I admitted after catching the look she was giving me. "Of course, if _we_ did it in the hallway, _we'd_ get in trouble," I grumbled. "The faculty just looks the other way when the straight couples have their moments of PDA."

The art room wasn't vacant. Not completely anyway.

From outside the room, I could see a thin frame of medium height sitting at a table, somewhat long tan hair falling down along the person's face. Whomever it was, he was intently focused on whatever he was doing and didn't notice immediately when we entered.

"Are we interrupting a class?" I asked hesitantly.

The head raised to reveal the green eyes of Ace, one of our crew members for the show. "Oh, sorry," he said, a bit flustered. "I had permission from Ms. Michel to finish my project." He held up a pastel drawing which was halfway finished. From the looks of it, I could tell it was going to be a landscape, most likely a Monet replica, which, I had been told by Kyriel, was the current project for Art I students. Even unfinished, I could tell it was a masterpiece in the works.

"Wow! That's really good."

"Nah," he replied modestly. "It's just me messing around mainly. Uh, if you need me to leave, I can come back and finish this another time."

"No, we're fine, as long as you don't mind hearing my rant session."

"I assume something's wrong with the show?"

I looked at him shocked. "How did you know?"

"Well, you basically eat, sleep, and breathe drama. I haven't really seen you do much else, especially not since this show has started."

"See, Specs?" Ershey nagged. "Everyone can see you're running yourself ragged with this show."

"Hey, can I help it if I want this to be really good? And yes, it is a problem with the show. Her name is Sarah Jacobs. I think she is going to single-handedly ruin this show."

"Now don't say that!" Ershey said optimistically. "I don't think she is going to single-handedly ruin this show, Specs."

"You don't?"

"No. I think Benny is going to help her."

* * *

The worst thing about her statement was that she was only half kidding. My head sank slowly onto one of the tables. It was going to be a long day. 

I sat down next to Dutchy on one of the benches outside while simultaneously balancing a book bag, lunch tray, and Diet Coke. Hey, I do have to keep my figure!

"Wha is at?" Dutchy asked, his mouth stuffed with food. That's my man. All looks and no manners.

"This," I answered, pointing to the piece of meat laying on the tray, "is supposed to be veal parmesan. This," I gestured to what resembled cat vomit, "is supposed to be rice. And this," I pointed to a piece of charcoal covered with powdered sugar, "is some sort of a cookie."

"You should just bring your lunch."

"I can't cook. You know that."

Snitch snorted from across the table. "C'mon. How hard can it be to make a simple sandwich?"

"Trust me, I'd find a way to screw it up."

"Specs!"

I turned to find that most of the cast and crew had surrounded me. I was pretty sure I knew what they wanted.

"So...," Soaker prompted. "Are we allowed to use the auditorium?"

"Well, there's good news and there's bad news."

"What's the good news?" Sapphy asked, snatching a couple of Oreos out of Race's lunch bag.

Before I could answer, Dutchy cut in. "I named my nickel Phillip," he exclaimed holding up the shining five cents.

"What's the bad news?" Zodiac played along, her eyes filled with mock horror.

Most of the occupants of the table shouted the reply. "It's a _girl _nickel!"

Ah, only at the Geek Table.

"Seriously, though," I continued, once we had all had a good laugh. "We will be allowed to use the building."

Mayfly pumped her fist into the air. "Kick ass!"

"But in return we must give Sarah her song back."

She lowered her fist. "Not kick ass!"

"So she went sobbing to Daddy about the meanies in Drama Club," Kathleen mused, more as a statement than an actual question.

Mac, who was playing cello for the show, shot up from her spot next to Snoddy. "I have an idea! Now suppose I smack Sarah over the head with a music stand--accidentally, of course--and she was hurt badly enough that she had to spend some time in the hospital. She couldn't do the show. Bada-bing, bada-boom, problem solved!"

"Oh, I'll help!" Sparrow offered energetically. "It'll be fun!"

"It wouldn't be _too_ hard to replace her," Blink said hopefully. A little _too _hopefully.

Not that I wasn't thinking the same thing. Just about anyone would be an improvement.

"You can't resort to violence," David cried out incredulously. "It'll give us a bad name!"

"Aw, you're just saying that cause she's your sister," Hyena, our violinist, muttered in disappointment.

"Either way, I don't think that would work," I informed them dejectedly. "I say we just make do."

"In other words, you want me to sing as loudly as possible to drown her out," Alaska translated.

"Exactly."

"So what about Benny?" Swinger, our flutist, asked sliding in next to Snitch. "I understand he wanted to make some Peter Griffin type changes to the show."

"_What_ type changes?" Buttons inquired, slightly lost.

"Peter Griffin type changes. You know _Family Guy _episode? Lois is putting on _The King and I_ and Peter turns it into a completely different show?"She explained.

"Don't tell me you don't watch _Family Guy_!" Race spoke up. "It's only the greatest show to ever grace television."

"Can we please get back to the problems at hand?" I pleaded. "I'm not sure what to do about Benny just yet. So far he hasn't really caused any big problems, but he still has plenty of time."

"So is today's rehearsal moved to the auditorium?" inquired Shooter.

"No. Even though we have permission to use the building, first I have to read the rules and regulations to everyone and make sure they agree to those terms. Then you all have to sign a sheet saying you know the rules and will follow them."

Snoddy snorted. "Will we also have to have a conference with their lawyers?"

"Seriously," Fantasy cried, "this is just ridiculous."

"I know," I sighed. "But it was either that or not use the building at all."

"How are we in the money department?" asked Nova who was currently leaning against Pie Eater.

"Well," Minx began, wiping the grease off of her fingers and fishing through a series of folders before finally producing a sheet of paper, "I went through all of the money we made from the last show." It wasn't good news. I could tell by the look on her face. "We made $1573 in both ticket and concession sales."

"Well that's pretty good," I said reassuringly.

"However..." I do believe that is the single most depressing word in the English language. "We still owe the school for some borrowed funds as well as $750 from when Judy left."

Ah yes, Judy. Our wonderful drama moderator from my freshman year. Our wonderful drama moderator who decided to run off and get married. Our wonderful drama moderator who didn't return the scripts the school had ordered when we performed _Crazy for You_, thus forcing the school to make-up for the cost and leaving the already failing club far in the hole.

Yeah. Good ol' Judy.

"So, about how much are we looking at right now?"

"I haven't quite figured it out, but it doesn't look too good. We're going to have to make up for those losses."

I groaned. "Any ideas?"

Kyriel raised her hand unsurely. "Car wash?"

Ink shook her head. "We wouldn't have a chance. Student Council is having one next week. Hawkettes are two weeks after that. Then the cheerleaders are having one. Also, I know the seniors are having at least three before the end of the year."

"Well, what if we got sponsors? I'm sure lots of places would donate if we put their names in our programs," Skittery suggested.

"You know," I responded pensively, "that's not such a bad idea. We could talk to some of the companies around here."

"I work at McDonalds," Granny put in. "Maybe I could talk the manager into donating something."

Cricket, who had volunteered to play clarinet, snorted. "After you started referring to it as 'Slaughter House Five'? I don't think he's going to feel generous toward you anytime soon."

"Well, we're going to have to present a proposal before we can do anything." I groaned inwardly at that realization. I didn't want to put up with _that_ shit again for a long time.

"Why? Do we need their permission to raise money?" Hornet flared angrily.

"Anything that will involve the school has to go through them," I sighed. "Yeah, it's stupid, but then again what_ isn't _at this school?"

"Fuck! I don't think this school is going to be fully happy until they run our program into the ground!" Irish practically screamed.

I knew we were earning a few stares. "Look, I'll get Ersh started on a proposal. Until then, try to think of some other ideas."

"Ideas for making money, or ideas to keep certain people from ruining the show?" Dutchy asked, a small smile forming.

"Both."

His hand slid over mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze. It helped. Slightly.

* * *

This is a "blah" chapter. What can ya do:blows raspberry at chapter: So please tell me I was not the only one who was/is forced to sit through the torture of _Channel One _every morning of school. Gah, how I despised it! But now I'm free! Insult _Channel One_ with me in a review! 


	5. New Faces, New Problems

Disclaimer: _Newsies_ belongs to Disney, not me. Not for long though...:hides TNT, rope, and ski mask behind her back: Hehehe. _Into the Woods_ is the creation of one Stephen Sondheim. All OCs belong to their creators except for Zodiac, Robbie, and Benny. They belong to me. :cackle:

* * *

"Damn you, evil thing!" I groaned angrily as I meticulously turned the lock combination in an effort to open my locker. So far, all attempts had been futile. It certainly didn't help that the zipper on my school bag was jammed and three or four little monsters were wiggling through my legs.

Wow. That sounded a bit perverted, didn't it?

The monsters in question were the freshmen who owned the lockers under mine. I used to hate having a bottom locker. It made me feel so insignificant. Having a top locker makes me miss those good old days.

The lock opened with a satisfying click. I did my best to squeeze between the locker-owners on either side of me, but alas I was only given so much room to work with.

"Hey Specs! Guess what?" Dutchy bounced over. He always managed to have a continuous heap of energy. Sometimes it bordered on annoying. This was one of those times.

"What?" I asked while exchanging various books and notebooks between my locker and school bag. In the process, my Civics book managed to slip from my hand and topple down upon the unsuspecting freshman below me.

"Hey! Watch what you're doing!" he hissed angrily. "Fucking pansy," he added in a hushed tone.

Oh! Big bad freshman gonna call me names. But apparently he isn't brave enough to tell this "pansy" off to his face.

I muttered some half-assed apology before turning back to Dutchy. "So what's the news?"

He shook his head. "You have to guess!"

"Dutchy! I love you, but I don't have much patience right now. Would you just tell me what the fucking news is?" I snapped. I didn't mean to snap. Honest I didn't.

His grin fell a bit. "Sorry. I just had some great news."

I sighed guiltily and softened my tone. "I know. I'm sorry I yelled. This just has not been one of my better days." I returned to my locker. "So what is it?"

"Well, you know how you've been obsessing over getting a trumpet player. You know, for The Princes' Fanfare?" He didn't wait for a response before continuing. "Well, I called Twitch and he said he's be happy to lend a hand!"

The aforementioned freshman let out a slew of obscenities as my Biology II book narrowly missed his head. I barely noticed. "Twitch? As in your ex-boyfriend?" I think I was about to hyperventilate.

Dutchy was unfazed. "Yeah, and he said he could help with the sets and everything. He's coming to rehearsal tonight."

I glared at him for a few seconds before slamming my locker and turning to leave in a huff. "Great."

"Oh, come on, Specs! Don't tell me you're jealous!"

"Well, how would _you_ feel if _I_ suddenly brought in an ex-boyfriend to help with the show?"

"Well, that'd be pretty hard considering I'm your first boyfriend."

I sighed. "That's not the point Dutchy, and you know it."

He grabbed my arm to stop me. "Specs, look. Twitch and I broke up for a reason. There just wasn't anything really there. We're just friends now. If I wanted to cheat on you, I certainly wouldn't bring him to rehearsals where you could see it."

"Oh, well that makes me feel _so _much safer!"

"That's not what I meant!" We were making a scene. "Look, if you don't want his help, I'll tell him to forget about it."

I considered this. Not that Twitch was really that bad of a guy. In fact, it was how _nice_ he was that really bothered me. He had this way of charming everyone he met. He'd probably be able to make friends with the homophobes around this school. There's also his uncanny ability to make everyone laugh. Not to mention the fact that he is absolutely gorgeous! Between his shaggy brown hair (which he complains about constantly), his yellowish-brown eyes, and his contagious smile, it was damn hard for _anyone_ to resist. To top it off, he's involved with almost everything at his school (outside of athletics) and still manages to hold a job and get good grades. So perhaps I was insecure about being his "replacement." But I just can't compete with him!

"No," I finally decided. "It's ok. We really do need him." I leaned against the wall and tried to calm myself down. "I'm not jealous. Really, I'm not. I'm just...well...under stress." Was it obvious that I was lying?

He simply nodded. "So, I'll bring him over at about 4:30?"

"That's fine."

He kissed me simply on the cheek. A few observers expressed their obvious disgust. "I'll see you then."

"Bye."

* * *

I entered the auditorium, pleased to see many of the cast members already there.

"Hey Specs!" Ershey was beckoning me toward the stage where she stood along with Ink and Racetrack.

"What are you guys doing here?" I asked Race and Ink.

"I have my crew members here to go through our stored costumes," Ink explained.

"And I," Race began, "only came to check out the light settings we have right now. But then Ersh asked me to stay and help. Besides," he added with a shrug, "it's not like I have anything better to do."

"Great, you and Ersh can run lines with anyone not doing anything. Ready to get started?"

"Yeah, but first, "Ersh produced a small silver whistle from her bag, "the rest of the E-Board pitched in to get you this."

"We wouldn't want your voice to go hoarse from yelling, now would we?" Race mused

Despite my current crappy mood, even I had to smile. "You guys rock."

"We know. Go ahead; try it out," Ink ordered.

I scanned the theater. Most of the cast members were currently talking or doing homework. A glance at my watch informed me it was 3:33. Certainly time to get things started. Hell, I was within my rights as a stage manager! Placing the whistle between my lips, I blew harshly. The consequence was a shrill sound.

As I placed the whistle around my neck, people began to abandon the fetal position they had fallen into. "Holy shit, Specs! Warn us next time you're going to do that!" Skittery cried, rubbing his ears tenderly. Most of the others groaned in agreement.

I brushed off all of the mumbles. "So, obviously we are now in the auditorium."

"Woo! About fucking time! Can I get a 'hell yeah'?"

"Thank you, Zodiac. As I was saying, we will rehearse in this auditorium from now on. Unless someone does something stupid. But that isn't going to happen, _is it_?" My eyes blazed slightly.

"No," they all chorused.

"Good. Today, I want to start with learning the music. We have Robbie, coming today and he should be here soon," I explained, glancing once again at my watch. "I'll be working with some of you on the opening song. As you know from our read-through, the opening number is extremely long. I hope to get through it as quickly as possible, so your cooperation is appreciated."

I flipped open my drama binder. "These are the people needed: David, Sapphy, Blink, Benny, Mayfly, Kathleen, Soaker, Shooter, Sparrow, Zodiac, Alaska, and Snoddy." Shutting the binder, I continued. "Now, obviously, not everyone is included in this number, so if you aren't I don't want you distracting us. Ersh and Race will be running lines with anyone not learning the song. But first, could a couple of you guys go to the chapel and get the piano?"

As Jack, Pie Eater, and Swifty left to retrieve the piano, I tapped my foot impatiently. In case you couldn't tell, I have this thing about punctuality. If you tell me you're going to be somewhere at a certain time, I expect you to stay true to your word.

"Are you sure you told him 3:30 in the auditorium," Ink asked.

"Positive. I wrote it down for him." I massaged my temples furiously.

"Well, I'm sure he'll have some kind of an excuse. Maybe not a good one, but an excuse nonetheless," she went on. "I need the keys to get into the costume racks."

I handed them over. "About how many usable costumes do we have stored?"

"I couldn't say. I'll try to get a count after we sort them out." She left followed by her crew members, Rei, Nova and Spitfire.

"We-hell, lookie who decided to show up!" Sparrow called out.

Enter Robbie. He sauntered in, not even trying to explain his tardiness. I groaned. "Hey, some of the guys went to get the piano. We should be starting soon."

He nodded and sat down. "So how long is this going to be? I mean, I do have other things to do."

My eyes practically bulged out of my head. Excuse me? _You_ were the one who _volunteered_ to be here! No one is making you stay. Hell, leave for all I care.

Wait. Scratch that. Then we won't have a pianist and that isn't good. Dammit! Why do these assholes always seem to have a sort of power over me?

"Well, rehearsal is going to last until at least 6:30," I explained through gritted teeth. He made a face indicating how unhappy he was with the situation, but didn't make any comments. Instead, he busied himself looking over the music I had given to him.

Smart move.

"Someday," Sparrow read from the script, "You'll have a real pet, Jack."

"A piggy?" was Blink's ecstatic response.

All in all, I was fairly pleased. We were making good time. Better than I had expected anyway. Sure there were a few rough patches here and there, but it certainly could be worse. I checked how we were doing on time. 4:25. Perfect.

"Ok, now would you prefer to continue to the next section, or would you rather start from the beginning, go as far as we have learned, and then take a break?"

"Let's start from the beginning," David proposed. "I think we already have a lot to work on for now." Everyone else seemed to concur.

"It's unanimous then." I gave Robbie a nod and he flipped back to the beginning of the score. "Ready when you are, David."

"Once upon a time," he began with the traditional fairy tale opening. The sound of the piano filled the air.

"I wish!" Sapphy sang out.

"In a far off kingdom,"

"More than anything!"

"Lived a young maiden,"

"More than life!"

"A sad young lad"

"More than jewels!"

"I wish!" Blink then joined in to the medley

"A childless baker," David continued his narration.

"More than life!" Blink stated.

"I wish," Sapphy repeated. Solo.

"Wait hold on," I groaned. The music stopped and the assembled cast members looked at me expectantly. "Benny, you were supposed to sing that line with Sapphy." I held the score in front of his face. "See?" I pointed to the section. "It says 'Cinderella _and _Baker'."

"I can't help it. This is all confusing. I mean, everyone is singing at the same time and it's hard."

"Of course it's hard!" Sapphy snapped, obviously angry at having been interrupted during the song. "If it wasn't hard it wouldn't be so interesting. If all the music was easy, it would be boring. The challenging things are what make the show great."

"This is Sondheim, Benny," Snoddy explained, somewhat frustrated. "The musical theater god. He doesn't just compose half-assed songs."

Benny crossed his arms, apparently irritated by the sudden attack. "Well, it's impossible to understand what's going on."

Mayfly followed in my suit, shoving her score into Benny's face. "Maybe if you'd look at the music, you could follow along. Right here, it says 'Jack'. And _here_ it says 'Baker'. Thus, once Blink sings _his _line, _you_ sing yours. It's not rocket-fucking-science!"

I felt it my duty to intervene before a fight broke out. "Ok! Come on, let's just start again and this time..." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two people enter the auditorium, talking to each other enthusiastically.

"Hey Specs!" Dutchy called out. "Twitch is here." Twitch, in response gave a small wave.

"So I see," I muttered, as everyone began surrounding the duo in curiosity. Of course, I said this softly enough that no heard me.

"Ooo. So the boyfriend's got himself a new bitch," Benny remarked with a smirk.

God, how I despise him.

As I made my way toward the crowd which had formed around Dutchy and Twitch, I heard introductions being made.

"So, wait. You're Dutchy's ex-boyfriend?" Irish inquired.

"Yeah. We were together for about a year. But we realized we just weren't right for each other romantically," he added after catching the crestfallen express ion on my face.

"How did the two of you meet?" Soaker asked. Dutchy snickered. Twitch blushed slightly. I simply rolled my eyes, having heard the story numerous times.

"Well, it's a long story," Twitch explained, trying to save himself from embarrassment.

"No, no!" Dutchy cried. "We have to tell them!" Twitch sighed in defeat and nodded. Dutchy took this as permission to continue. "I was working at this ice cream place, ok? Well, Twitch was there one day and ordered a Root Beer Float. We were out of Root Beer, so I offered to make him a Coca-Cola Float instead."

Twitch took over the story. "I thought he was cute, so I was doing my best to act cool."

"And failing miserably!"

"Shut up, Dutchy! Anyway, the total came out to be somewhere in the vicinity of $6.65. I handed him $7. After he went through the business of entering the code to access the cash register, I remembered that I had change, so I figured I may have exact change. So he entered the code to close the register, but as I dug in my pocket, I realized I only had 25 cents. Therefore, he had to re-enter the code into the cash register. After he finished, he handed me my change and said 'Well, now you have change', I guess as an attempt to flirt or something."

"Oh, are we insulting _my_ flirting skills here? Because I could gladly share some–"

Twitch clamped his hand of Dutchy's mouth. "As I was saying, he handed my change to me. Well, I realized I had probably been a pain in the ass, so I figured I should leave him the change as a tip. After I dropped it in the bin on the counter, I noticed he was giving me a weird look. Before I could ask he said 'Uh, sir? You just put your change in the trash can...'"

The theater roared with laughter. Even Twitch, who had turned a nice shade of crimson, was chuckling.

"The best...best part, "Dutchy gasped for breath between his fits of laughter, "is that on the bin it said in large, bold letters '**Trash Only!**'"

They all began laughing harder, if that was even possible. Dutchy searched through the crowed, the impish grin still on his face. When he saw the unamused look on my face, though, he frowned slightly. "Ok," he cut into the noise, "you've all met Twitch. I think Specs needs you to get back to the actual rehearsals, though."

And so the cast filed back to where they had been before, whether it was surrounding the piano backstage or sitting in the audience. As Dutchy and Twitch passed, Dutchy turned to me. "Hey, uh, we're just gonna be backstage getting things started. We'll try not to make too much noise."

I nodded somberly. "Ok. Oh, Twitch?"

He turned to face me. "Yeah."

"Here are the trumpet parts." I practically shoved the book into his chest, before heading backstage. I'm sure Dutchy was quietly apologizing for my actions. I picked up my script and found where we were. "Ok, now from the beginning," I ordered. The music began once again, and as hard as I tried, I could no longer concentrate on the song. On the other side of the stage I could see them laughing with each other and doing God knows what else.

It was going to be a long fucking night.

* * *

"Tonight's rehearsal went fairly well. We got a lot accomplished, but we still have a long way to go," I lectured, pacing before them all. "Tomorrow, I would like to continue with learning songs, but Ireland will also be here to begin some of the blocking. I expect everyone to be prompt," I said with a not so subtle glare in Robbie's direction, "and ready to work. You may go."

"Need a ride home?" Dutchy offered coming up behind me, Twitch by his side.

"Yes, if you don't mind." I didn't want those two spending anymore time alone than was necessary.

"Wait!" Ink called as I collected my things. "You said you needed to see the list of costumes we had in stock," she explained holding up a rather lengthy list.

"Well, I could look at it later..." I'd rather not, though. The sooner I know where we stand on costumes, the sooner I can cross it off of my mental To-Do List. But what was more important? Being prepared for this show, or making sure my boyfriend was being faithful?

I dropped my bag. "Ok, let me see it."

"Well, how are you going to get home?"

"Don't worry," Ink stepped in. "I can give him a ride home. I'd just prefer to go through all of this sooner rather than later."

He looked at me earnestly. "You're sure?"

I sighed. "Positive. Go on ahead. I'll call you tonight, if it's not too late."

"Ok. Bye!" And he left. No good-bye kiss. Not even on the cheek.

"Look, don't worry about it," Rei said with a reassuring pat on the back.

"I'm sure if Jack began hanging around with one of his ex-girlfriends you'd be pretty pissed too."

"True," she admitted," but that's different. All of Jack's ex-girlfriends are sluts."

"Hey!" a voice split through the air. We turned the see a very angry Sarah standing near the exit. "My best friend Julie is one of his ex-girlfriends," she exclaimed before leaving.

"I rest my case," Rei murmured.

"Honestly, Specs," Nova joined in. "This is Dutchy we're talking about. He practically stalked you before he got up the courage to ask you out."

"It's true," agreed Spitfire. "The guy pretty much worships the ground you walk on. Besides, Twitch seems like a nice enough guy. I doubt he'd try anything."

As I had expected, Twitch had managed to win everyone over in only a couple of hours. Life was so unfair.

I grabbed the sheets held by Ink. "Christ! Can we please just drop it? I don't want to hear anymore about this for tonight!"

They were pretty stunned. I was too. I really was turning into an asshole, wasn't I?

"Ok," Ink began softly, "but if you keep isolating yourself from him, it's only going to hurt your relationship. You need to trust him."

Don't you hate it when they're right?

* * *

Dumb place to end, I know.shrugs But I'm really tired, I've started on another fic, and school starts soon. Yep! That's right! I'll be a college girl! And I'll probably _still_ be a loser! So, among all of this, I wanted to get this chapter out as quickly as possible. Hope you all enjoyed it! 


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